


Coffee At Midnight

by bunsterjonez



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, West Coast Avengers
Genre: Clint Barton Feels, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Gen, Light Angst, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-28 04:09:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18748729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunsterjonez/pseuds/bunsterjonez
Summary: "What do we do, now that they're gone?" Reader from my Coffee, AM? mini series tries to cope in a world Post-Snap.





	Coffee At Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a Writing Challenge on Tumblr, set in the same universe as my Coffee, AM? series (I'd recommend you read that first). Enjoy! --BJ

The compound was empty, the technical wing quiet; nobody from SHIELD to report to anymore. F.R.I.D.A.Y. had deployed security contingencies when Tony disappeared, leaving you with little maintenance to do yourself. But you still found yourself going to work, unable to break the routine. F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s presence was a soothing remainder… the only other being around you could imagine that could feel the loss you felt. If it wasn’t an artificially-generated piece of software, that is.

Eyes shut, you counted back the days again. Four since Stark disappeared. Three since you’d seen Rhodes, Black Widow, Banner, Vision, and Wanda leave with Captain Rogers. Two since the world around you had turned to ash.

A sigh escaped you, eyes now fixed on the monitors in your office, hoping for even the slightest movement, a sign that there was still someone out there. But they only gave you a clear picture of the loneliness that was your reality.

Pushing yourself off the desk, you took to roaming the empty halls. Surprisingly, no access was restricted to you anymore, doors automatically opening and closing in your wake. You roamed without direction, lost in thought, until a light turned on in a room to your left.

You teetered at the door frame of the kitchen, debating whether to go in at all… when you saw it.

It played out like a movie right in front of your eyes; you could just see Clint sleepily shuffling towards the coffee machine, adding more grounds than water, and drinking it straight out of the mug, like you’d seen him do so many times before. But with a shake of your head, the vision was gone.

_Just your imagination._  However, the sound coming from a nearby room was real enough. It led you to one of the common rooms, the TV on.  _F.R.I.D.A.Y.,_  you thought to yourself.

Full of trepidation, you stepped closer to the couch, the voices from the nameless reality show competition on screen taking a backseat to what you were now seeing: Clint laughing, gesturing at the screen. He loved watching those. You loved how happy he was. The projection before you shimmered away seconds later.

Taking a few steps back, you tried to avoid the deep wave of sadness threatening to grab hold. This place was full of ghosts; echoes, memories. F.R.I.D.A.Y. had made sure to store them away. For you?

A part of you wanted to do anything but dwell on them. But deep down you knew they were all you had of him now.

**

The hustle and bustle of the busy morning streets on your way to your usual coffee stop wasn’t something you’d think you’d miss so much. Your morning dates had been relegated to the Compound after Clint’s house arrest, and he’d clandestinely sneaked off to help new recruits set up in the West Coast a week ago. No one had heard from him since. And now you feared you never would.

Walking down empty sidewalks, ash still on the concrete, you feet led you back where it all began. The glass door was broken, debris strewn about the abandoned shop, not a soul in sight. Glancing to your left, your empty table was still there.  _He brought waffles._

Tears stung in your eyes, but you sniffed forcefully, determined to keep them at bay. It wouldn’t do a thing. It wouldn’t bring him back.

You sat down on the nearby chair with a sigh. One chance meeting – one “ornamental disaster”, you thought to yourself with a weak snort –  and he’d turned your world upside down. Meeting Clint had been a complete accident, but it had been the best accident of your life.

“Glad we stopped coming here.”

Not daring to believe it, you turned sharply towards the source of the voice. Half-hidden in shadow, behind the counter, you saw Clint, taking a short step into the dim light. “This place certainly went downhill.”

You laughed halfheartedly, thinking you’d finally gone mad. You got to your feet, as wobbly as they were. “Not a great place for a date after the end of the world,” you agreed. Your words tumbled out, mind still processing, trying to catch up.

“Oh, **are we on a date right now?** ” A shadow lingered over his brow, but his eyes twinkled. “Sorry I’m late.”

Before you knew it, you were running towards him, hands meeting his solid chest and pulling him close until your lips met. His arms snaked around you, and you sighed into him, his lips vehemently matching yours, neither even attempting to let go of the other.

***

“What’s going to happen now?” You asked, sitting atop the roof under the darkened sky, side by side, your hand still in his.

Clint sighed. “I’m not sure. The team in LA… they were gone, right in front of my eyes. Maybe I’m the last one left.” Whether subconsciously or not, he squeezed your hand at the prospect. “I don’t think this is what Ross meant by ‘forced retirement’.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder. “Do you think anyone else made it?” Your thoughts traveled to Captain Rogers, leading the team onto the Quinjet the last day you saw them, Natasha following close behind.

As if reading your mind, Clint spoke up firmly. “Natasha.” But his conviction was interrupted by a frown. “At least, I hope she did. She’s tougher than any of them.”

That darkness on his face was back. The prospect of being the last Avenger left standing. The responsibility of looking for his friends. Of leaving you, again. And you were at a loss as to how to distract him from it now. Maybe it was inevitable. Like so many things were when it came to you both.

You reached up to his jaw, your fingers turning his gaze onto you. Worry lined his face, and you knew it wasn’t just for Natasha and the others, but for you as well.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said fervently. At the very least you could reassure him of that.

He let out a breath, his forehead meeting yours, your touch placating his anxiously beating heart. “I need coffee.”

Chuckling lightly, you pressed his lips to his once more. “Now  _that_ I can help you with.” 


End file.
